


I Made Peace With it, Mistakes and All

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Grand Theft Auto AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all heists go well, and not robberies are successful. They’ve been shot at, injured, and beaten before; this is nothing new to them. But it was always something big, something dramatic. Who would have guessed the Fake AH Crew would be down one member because of something so minor, something so petty? Definitely not Ryan, and certainly not Ray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Made Peace With it, Mistakes and All

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write something quick and kinda sad. Decided to do this one based off the song Letters Home by Radical Face. Disclaimer: I have literally no medical knowledge.

He was walking through the aisles, not really looking at all they had on the shelves. His hands were stuck deep inside his pockets and he was replaying in his head how much he really did not want to be there right at this moment. He wanted to be back at the house, hanging around with the rest of the crew. He grabbed a bag of chips at random, mentally berating himself for listening to the guys and agreeing to go out and do their shopping. He glanced up, seeing no one else in the store besides him, another kid with their head covered by a hoodie, and the cashier that was watching them both suspiciously. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have a gun on him. What was he going to do? Shoot up the place?

Ray shrugged before pulling out the list he had been given of things his crew needed. He could tell where Gavin had stolen the list and added a bunch of useless shit to it. What the fuck were walkers, anyways? The only walkers he knew of were in the Walking Dead, and he highly doubted Gavin wanted him to buy merch for a show he didn’t watch. He glanced up as he heard sneakers squeak against the dusty floor. The other kid was walking up, and he was obviously shaking. Ray recognized the signs. They were the same things he did before his crew found him.

He shoved the list back into his pocket and followed the kid, grabbing their arm before something too bad could happen. In an instant a gun was pushed into his stomach and he froze. His mind panicked, trying to think of something to say. “Listen, you don’t have to do this,” he whispered, glancing at the cashier. He wasn’t paying attention to what was going on.

He just felt the barrel of the gun shake and twitch, and with every subtle movement he felt his heart flutter a little bit. It was a strange reaction, since he’d been faced with things similar to this before. He’d been shot at, he’d been beaten, and he’d been severely injured. Maybe the difference this time was that he wasn’t in the spotlight, the world didn’t have its eyes glued to him and the rest of his crew. If he was shot now, if he _died_ right now, it wouldn’t matter. He’d just be a body in a morgue; a single bullet wound the cause of his death. All from some punk kid that probably didn’t even know how to use a gun correctly. It wasn’t a huge event, it was tiny.

The world was going on as it always did, and not even the cashier knew what was going on. No one was watching, no one cared, and Ray’s life was possibly on the line.

“Like hell I don’t,” the kid muttered darkly, and Ray could just barely see some scruffy kid with huge bags under his eyes peeking out from the shadow of his hoodie. The gun only dug deeper. “It’s either this or I keep going with my shitty life.”

Ray shook his head, trying to be the calm one. The kid obviously wasn’t, so someone had to be. He’d dealt with guns to his chest before, but this one was different. This wasn’t Ryan being Ryan, this wasn’t a rival gang member threatening to kill him, this was just some kid. It had been so long since he’d been the kid with a gun in a convenience store that he’d forgotten what it was like. “You don’t want this life. It’ll tear you apart, you won’t ever stop running. This city is dangerous, kid. Don’t throw your life away just yet.”

He felt the gun lower a little, and he let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding. The kid looked like he was contemplating something. “Who… who _are_ you? You’re talking like you know all about this.”

Ray shrugged sheepishly, and opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the sound of sirens rapidly approaching. The cashier had a phone to his mouth, staring at them intently. There was a split second where Ray seemed to understand what was about to happen, and he braced himself. The gun, still pointed at Ray, went off with a bang, and there was a second where all he could process was a ringing in his ears and a terrible pain blossoming from his stomach. He felt himself fall, and vaguely processed the kid bolt.

His vision was a haze and he couldn’t think past it, but he could feel people grab him and lift him, putting him into an ambulance. He heard people shouting at him, telling him to stay away, asking him who he was and who his next of kin were.  He tried to open his mouth, only to cough and feel something warm dribble down the side of his cheek. It was like his lungs refused to work and his vocal chords wouldn’t make noise. His vision turned black and the pain stopped, if only for the moment.

-.-

He woke up in a hospital room, and he wasn’t sure how he got there. It all came crashing on him in a second, and there was a shooting pain through his chest. He tried to sit up, only to catch sight of clean bandages wrapped around his middle. He collapsed back into the bed, breathing heavily, like he couldn’t quite get the air into his lungs that he needed.

A moment later he was looking around the room frantically, wondering if someone had found out who he was and a police officer was coming to lock him away forever. He relaxed when he saw Ryan sitting in a chair a few feet away. If Ryan was there then everything was fine. He’d taken care of it all. He tried to stand up, to call out to him, something, anything, but he couldn’t. He was just _tired_ , and he wondered if they had managed to get that bullet out of his chest without any repercussions. He groaned as a spark of pain shot through him, finding its way to every part of his body.

He felt himself fall unconscious again. It was a while before he woke up properly again. He heard people move through his room, doctors talking and nurses changing his bandages. He felt helpless and terrible and weak, all things that he had hoped to never feel again. At one point he heard Ryan talking, a stranger replying.

“Is he going to…” Ryan said slowly, quietly. He sounded chocked up and Ray desperately wanted to reach out and help him, but he couldn’t move, and his limbs felt like lead. He tried to breathe deeply but it still didn’t feel like he was getting enough oxygen.

“Die?” who he assumed was the doctor said, almost pityingly. He could hear Ryan’s ragged breathing, and he knew the man was trying desperately not to cry. “I’m sorry, but it’s very likely. The bullet left too much lasting trauma, the wound is severely infected, he lost too much blood, and he went into hypovolemic shock. His organs aren’t getting enough oxygen, and it’s very likely that, if he survives this, he won’t be able to go back to… what did you say his job was again?”

“He’s a, uh, bus driver,” Ryan said, maybe a bit too quickly, his voice still thick with grief.

“Mhmm,” the doctor hummed. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t think that he is going to survive this. It’s out of my hands. All we can do is wait and hope for a miracle.”

The sounds became muffled again, and he felt himself falling asleep. There was a cottony blackness that seemed to be determined to stay, to block the outside world. It took a while longer to wake up this time, and he had no idea how long it had been since he’d been shot, since he’d talking to his friends. He wondered if they were worried about him. They probably were. They definitely were.

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t quite find himself fearing death. Maybe it was too morbid a thought, or maybe he was just tired and sick but it was true. He didn’t really have that many regrets in his life, at least, not ones that would hold up under a microscope. Sure, he was a criminal, but that was probably the biggest thing in his life. It wasn’t like he had a chance before he joined his crew, and he had made a name for himself. He had friends, he had goals, and he had a life. He didn’t really regret anything all that much, at least not now.

Maybe he should be sad that it could be ending so soon.

Really, though, the worst part about it was knowing who he would be leaving. He was all too aware of the lasting damage his death would cause his crew, both physically and emotionally. If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay alive in an instant, but he didn’t, and he was dying, so he just had to accept that.

The next time he properly woke up Ryan was sitting next to him, his hand over Ray’s. His body felt unbelievably heavy and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. “Hey,” he mumbled, and Ryan’s head practically shot up. They were red and shining, and Ray reached over with a shaking hand to brush away the tear that fell from his eye. He laughed weakly as Ryan caught his hand and held it there for a while. His hand was cold, compared to the burning skin all over Ray’s body.

“Ray, you know that you’re-“

“Dying? Yeah, I know.” He felt Ryan’s grip tighten. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be fine. Well, maybe not fine. I’m more worried about you.”

Ryan just chocked out a laugh, shaking his head. “N-nah, I’ll be fine.” His voice cracked and Ray knew that he absolutely would not be.

“Don’t lie to me, Ryan.” He sat himself up and looked straight at him, his crew member, and his friend. Maybe even more. That more couldn’t be pushed back any longer, especially since he was dying. “I need you to listen to me. I… I like you, a lot. I’m pretty sure if we’d had… more time it would have gotten somewhere, but it’s too late now. I don’t know why I joined the crew anymore. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I just don’t know. At least it wasn’t the cause of my death, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

Ryan looked like he was going to say something, tears spilling out of his eyes again, but Ray shook his head just as he started to say, “Ray, I-“

“Nope, you’re going to let me finish. If these are going to be my last words they’re going to damn well be heard.” He took a deep breath, already feeling exhausted again. “I miss being able to do normal things, I miss going to the movies in broad daylight with no fear of being arrested, I miss the simple things in life. I don’t regret meeting you and I don’t regret meeting all the others. I just want you to know that I’m fine, that I’ve made peace with my mistakes.” He swallowed hard, his vision dancing with black spots. He could vaguely hear Ryan sobbing next to him, but he didn’t have the energy to turn his head. “I just want you to know that I love you, and it’s not fair to you for me to say this now, but I just wanted you to know that.” He closed his eyes, and whispered, “Sorry,” as the heart monitor let out a steady beep.

Ryan, shaking and practically falling apart stood up and leaned over his friend, gently brushing Ray’s lips with his. Already they were cold, and the tears fell onto his face, making it look like he had been crying too. Maybe he had been.

“It’s ok,” he said, his chest hurting and his heart aching. “I love you too.”


End file.
